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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540406">I (Don't) Want To Live On The Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latte_Hottay/pseuds/Latte_Hottay'>Latte_Hottay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Autistic Paul Matthews, F/M, Nightmare Time Episode 3: Forever &amp; Always, Stabbing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:14:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,059</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latte_Hottay/pseuds/Latte_Hottay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Paul wakes up in an unfamiliar facility and finds out he's a clone and he's getting shipped to the mood the next week, all he wants is to find Emma.</p><p>So that's what he does.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I (Don't) Want To Live On The Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another fic I wrote a few weeks ago to post after the YouTube release!</p><p>(Yes the title is a Twisted reference I am bad at coming up with titles lmao)</p><p>TRIGGER WARNINGS:<br/>-Needles<br/>-Captivity (not really against their will but it's still there)<br/>-Stabbing<br/>-Branding/burns<br/>-Blood<br/>-Death</p><p>SPOILER WARNING:<br/>This story contains major spoilers for Nightmare Time episode 2, specifically Forever &amp; Always.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“He’ll wake up soon,” a voice spoke, before the footsteps faded away.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Good.” A gentle hand was placed on Paul’s arm, and when he opened his eyes, a woman was smiling at him. “Hello, Paul,” she said, “Welcome on Earth.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul looked around, taking in his surroundings. There were no windows in the room, the bright light above him was enough. The chair he was on reminded him of the dentist. It was tilted backward only slightly, and his arms were tied to the armrests.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul tried to think of any reason he could be here, but he could not remember doing anything that would result in him being tied up in some sketchy basement.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’ll explain it later. There are some basic tests and procedures that we will have to go through first.” The woman put on some latex gloves and grabbed a cotton swab from the tray next to the chair. Paul looked away as soon as he saw what other equipment was there, waiting to be used.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What’s going on?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Like I said, I will explain later. Open your mouth.” Paul did as he was told and the woman swabbed his cheeks. She put the swab in a plastic bag before speaking again. “I need you to cooperate with the next few tests to make it easier for both of us, do you understand?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul’s instinct told him to run, but the restraints around his wrist were too tight to escape. So he nodded.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Good,” the woman said, grabbing some tweezers and ripping a few hairs out of his skull. Paul winced.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Who are you?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No questions until I’m done, okay?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul nodded again as the woman grabbed a syringe from the tray, poking it into his vein. Paul tried to pull away, but it was useless. His heart raced as he watched his blood slowly fill up the vial.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Now for the next part, I need you to stay completely still. It’ll hurt, but we don’t want to mess it up.” She grabbed a piece of metal on a stick and a blowtorch. “You’re number twenty-three,” she told him as she started heating up the metal. Paul’s heart skipped a beat when he realized what was going to happen. “We tattooed the first six, but branding turned out to be more efficient.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul tugged at the restraints. “Why are you doing this? Why me?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No questions,” the woman told him again, turning the blowtorch off and inspecting the now glowing metal. “Don’t move.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul’s eyes widened when the metal was pressed against his forearm, followed by being squeezed shut. A scream escaped his throat, and the woman’s hand grabbed his elbow to hold him in place. He squirmed in his seat as the glowing metal burned his skin.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The pain didn’t fade after it was done. The burning feeling stayed, even after the woman left the room. Paul looked at his arm. He could barely make a ‘23’ out of the red skin.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sat there for a few minutes, trying to breathe through the pain. He jumped at the sound of the door opening. He looked up and saw… </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A perfect copy of him stood in the doorway, smiling at him, holding a towel.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The man walked towards him and sat down as Paul stared. He winced as he pressed the wet towel onto the branded skin. It relieved the pain, but the pressure hurt.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What- Who- Who are you?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His doppelganger chuckled. “Yeah… You’ll have to get used to it.” He put the towel on the table and inspected the burn. “We’re clones,” he explained, rolling up his sleeve and pointing at a scar that formed a ‘14’. “I’m Paul Fourteen. You’re Twenty-three. This is the basement of CCRP, we’re made here so we can work in some mining colony on the moon when there’s enough of us.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“CCRP makes </span>
  <em>
    <span>clones</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“A lot more than clones, actually. They won’t tell us what they’re up to, but it’s a lot more than just us.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“So you’re saying there are twenty-three Pauls?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Twenty-four, actually. The original Paul is still alive. Kind of unfair when you think about it, that he gets to date Emma while we get sent to the moon as slaves.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Does he know about this?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, they took some DNA from a cup and used it to make us. We sleep down the hall for now. They want to send us to the moon where there are twenty-five of us. I think the launch is next week.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Okay… Okay… Okay. So what happens then?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We’ll work on the moon, and every now and then more Pauls get dropped off,” Fourteen said, unlocking the restraints around Paul’s wrists like he hadn’t just told him he’ll get shipped to the moon. “Let’s go. I’ll show you where we sleep.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul followed his clone. Was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>clone? He was a clone too, so were they each other’s clones? How does that work?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His doppelganger cleared his throat, and Paul flinched, shaking the thought away. “Sorry, what were you saying?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“This is where we sleep.” He pushed the door open, and Paul stepped inside. About two dozen of Pauls stared at him.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Guys, this is Paul Twenty-three,” Fourteen said. Paul gave an awkward wave.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A few clones greeted him, while others continued what they were doing.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen led him to a bed with a ‘23’ above it in those wooden letters you would find in a toddler’s room. “This is your place. Everything you need is in here.” He tapped on the trunk next to the bed. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. Number Fourteen.” He gave an awkward thumbs-up and walked towards his own bed.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul sat down on the bed, feeling the scratchy blanket. He wished he was back in his own bed, in his own house, though it wasn’t technically </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> house, the memories just felt so real.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He opened the trunk, and was relieved to see some aloe vera gel in the toiletries bag. He put some on his fingers and gently rubbed it onto his arm to hopefully help the burn heal.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul quickly grabbed the suit from his trunk and hurried to the bathroom. Hospital gowns were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> his style.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He inspected the man in the mirror as he tied his tie. “I look like… me.” He chuckled anxiously. “What is happening?” he asked his reflection. “This is a dream, right? I just- I just have to wake up.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He grabbed a toothbrush that lay abandoned on the sink and pressed the tip onto the fresh burn. The scream that escaped his throat wasn’t just from pain. He was frustrated. Why wasn’t he waking up? Why felt the pain so </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A knock on the door made him flinch. “Twenty-three? It’s Fourteen. We’re having dinner.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Coming!” Paul answered, rushing to gather his stuff.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>If this was a dream, he’d wake up eventually.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** *** ***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will every Paul please grab all of their belongings and sit down on their own bed. The launch is in twenty minutes. I repeat: the launch is in twenty minutes.” All the clones looked up as the message sounded through the shitty intercom.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul looked around at all his doubles that hurried to gather their stuff, though no one owned a lot of things.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Were these really his last few minutes on Earth? What would it feel like, floating through space? Would the view be beautiful, or wouldn’t they get the chance to look outside? Would he ever return? Would he ever see Emma again? Or pretend to laugh at Ted’s stupid jokes? Or listen to Bill complain about his ex-wife?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I can’t do this…” he mumbled. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do this.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey, Twenty-three!” Fourteen shouted, coming towards him. “Do you… need help? We have to go soon.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Y-yeah!” He grabbed his spare suit and a few random objects and tossed them into the suitcase. “Have you ever thought about escaping?” he asked as he closed the zipper. “You know, just run away and try to live a normal life? We won’t get another chance, seeing we’ll be on our way to the moon soon. I guess it’ll be more difficult to escape when you can’t even breathe if you leave the base.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen nodded. “Okay. Yeah… I- We could try. We’ll have to leave at the very last moment though, so they won’t realize we’re gone before they get sent into space.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul nodded, tapping his fists together. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** *** ***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Ready for launch in 10…</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <br/>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <br/>
    </em>
  </b>
  <span>Paul looked at the spaceship as the engines started roaring.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>9...</em>
  </b>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>How did CCRP make such a massive machine without anyone noticing?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>8…</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>Was the government in on this?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>7…</em>
  </b>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen looked at him, holding a finger to his lips.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>6…</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>Paul nodded, looking around to see if anyone would be able to see them hiding behind the containers.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>5…</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>They could feel the heat from the flames.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>4…</em>
  </b>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Would he get the chance to see Emma again?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>3…</em>
  </b>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Emma.</span>
  </em>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>2…</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>He would do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see her again.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <em>1…</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>The engines got louder, and the rocket shot into the sky. Paul looked at the flames in amazement, until he felt a tap on his shoulder.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen glanced at the rocket, before turning back to Paul. “Now.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And they ran.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** *** ***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what now?” Paul asked.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We kill the original, and we take turns living his life while the other has a fake identity.” Fourteen held up a false ID card. “Ben Bridges.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul nodded. “Where do we find Paul?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He looked at his watch. “It’s 4:45. If we hurry, we can catch him on his way home from work.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And then we just kill him?!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah!” He sighed. “Listen. I don’t know about you, but I don't want to spend my life hiding so no one finds out who we are. So, either you’re in, or you can leave.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul hesitantly nodded. “Let’s go.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>After a quick stop at a local shop to buy a kitchen knife, the two identical men hid in an alleyway close to the building of CCRP.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We have to be careful,” Fourteen whispered. “If an employee sees us, we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>screwed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If we- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shh</span>
  </em>
  <span>! There he is!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul adjusted his grip on the knife as he glanced around the corner to see yet another copy of himself.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen grabbed the original by his arm and pulled him into the alley, covering his mouth before he could make a sound.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The terror and confusion in his eyes were clear as Paul brought the knife down.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>One. Two. Three. Three stab wounds in his abdomen, and he was gone.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul lowered the knife. “We did it. The original is dead.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen nodded. “You’re covered in blood. How are we going to get out of here without seeming suspicious?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul looked at his clothes. His previously white shirt was soaked in red. “I’ll take care of it.” He grabbed his blazer from the ground and put it on, making sure it at least covered most of the stains</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fourteen nodded and turned around to walk away but Paul took a few steps forward and grabbed his shoulder, plunging the knife into his back. His doppelganger gasped as he fell to his knees. Paul guided him onto the floor, apologizing. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a great friend, partner, and doppelganger. But there can only be one Paul Matthews.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He left his look-alike to bleed out in the alley, ignoring the betrayed look in his eyes and his pleas for help as he walked back onto the street, avoiding eye-contact and wanting to get to a safer place before anyone could notice the bloodstains on his clothes and skin.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There could only be one Paul Matthews. He had killed </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> men to live this life. He was going to make the most of it.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He smiled as he walked through the street where the original Paul and Emma used to live, stopping in front of the apartment building, and grinning as he rang the bell of apartment number 23.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>This was meant to be.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hello?” Emma’s voice rang out.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey, sweetheart, I forgot my keys, could you let me in?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Paul pushed the door open and pulled his sleeve over his scar as he walked up the stairs.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Emma couldn’t know. Not yet.</span>
</p>
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